


Maybe Tonight

by VeriLee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Awkwardness, Caught in the Rain, Cousin Incest, Cousins, Dry Humping, F/M, Incest, Making Out, and very consensual, but fluffy and lighthearted really, extra candy hearts for you if you get the title reference, trapped together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 17:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20086234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeriLee/pseuds/VeriLee
Summary: Ben Solo has found the woman of his dreams in Rey Johnson, the cute candy shop owner who satisfies his sweet tooth. A rainstorm puts a damper on more than their hike when the new couple discover they are long lost cousins...but is that really going to stop them?Alternatively: Remember that episode of The New Girl where Jess found out she had been dating her cousin? It's like that, except this is Reylo and they dgaf.





	Maybe Tonight

** _“That Smile”_ **

The first time that Ben stops by the vintage and novelty candy shop in the strip mall near his office, it’s on a whim. He usually doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he’s craving the sour cherry saltwater taffy he loved as a child. Just his luck, the shop has an entire row of taffy barrels filled with every flavor you could ask for.

He dumps a scoopful into the crinkly cellophane "candy by the pound" bag and walks towards the counter to pay for his sugar fix when he sees her. The freckled, brunette manager with the sparkling hazel eyes and 1000 watt smile is probably the prettiest woman Ben has ever laid eyes on, and he's suddenly struck speechless, gaping at her like a fool.

_ Wait, her mouth is moving. She's talking. _

"Sorry, what was that?" he asks, finding his voice finally.

The woman laughs, a delicate, pleasant sound and she repeats herself. "I said, did you find everything you were looking for?"

"Oh, yes, sorry," Ben says, handing his bag over to be weighed. "I found just what I wanted." _ And more, _his mind supplies, his eyes lingering on her smile.

And even though he knows it's probably a little creepy, Ben is making plans to come back to this shop _ very _soon, even as he's walking out the door.

** _"U R Cute"_ **

Interlocking Lego bricks made of sugar. Retro Razzles and colorful Candy Buttons on waxy strips of cardboard. Little boxes of sugar sticks that are still very much candy cigarettes, even if they aren't _ technically _allowed to be branded as such, anymore.

Before long, Ben has a stash of these and more, even though it's something else he's really craving. He knows he should feel guilty; it's borderline stalking going to that shop so often. She’s a shopkeeper, she’s being _ polite, _ not _ flirting. _Ben tells himself this but Rey—as her name tag informs him—smiles and chats with him and teases him about his sugar intake in that lilting British accent and all his moral reservations fall away.

Luckily, she doesn't seem to think he's creepy. She comments one day on the big bag of conversation hearts that he's buying three and a half months after Valentine's Day and Ben inexplicably blurts out:

"Candy hearts are my favorite."

It's a lie. Conversation hearts are basically novelty-shaped Tums. Who would claim them as a favorite besides an oversized, over nervous brute of a man with all the social skills of a middle schooler with his first crush? His skin feels warm, and he just _ knows _ his traitorous ears are pink.

But Rey just makes a joke about the candies being a tastier version of sending text messages and Ben relaxes.

After that Rey always has a little mini bag of hearts for him when he comes in. Ben starts to think maybe he's not over thinking her friendly greetings, maybe it's _not_ just excellent customer service.

And then one day he _ knows _he's not over thinking. Because she hands him a tiny baggie and the pastel rainbow of hearts—purple, yellow, green, pink, and white—are all emblazoned with the same two words, six letters. She must have dug through the plastic bin and handpicked the whole lot.

In his car, Ben lets one chalky heart dissolve into sugar on his tongue while he stares at four more in his palm:

** _"Call Me"_**

Oh. And she slips a piece of receipt tape with her phone number into the bag too. That makes things pretty clear.

For the next three blissful weeks Ben is on, not a sugar-high, but definitely a Rey-high. He still stops by her store frequently; it’s walking distance from his office and the color and sweet scents and of course _ Rey _ are all preferable ways to spend his lunch hour, rather than eating at his desk, trying to fit a bit more work time into his already long days.

But now there are also movie dates and dinner and a failed attempt to go see Shakespeare in the Park before it got rained away. Every moment is better than the last, and as the two get to know each other, Ben only falls harder.

It seems almost absurd, given the short timeframe of their new relationship, but he's already sure he could spend the rest of his life with her. Rey’s life has been so different from his—the stories she’s told of travelling across both the US and Europe with her mother, unlike Ben, who was born and raised in a suburb outside of Chandrila. (It sounds like the sort of life his uncle, the family’s token hippie, who shows up only at rare intervals, lives, actually.) But despite her jetsetting, and his own reliable, if not stifling, upbringing, they share one thing in common: neither has ever quite fit in anywhere, or really _ connected _ with anyone. Until now.

Maybe opposites really do attract, or maybe something bigger is drawing them together. Either way, Ben is grateful for _ whatever _it was in the universe that conspired to entwine their paths.

** _“Kiss Me” _ **

He ducks out of the summer heat and into the air conditioning about five minutes to closing, and Rey slides a conversation heart into his palm. Ben swallows the chalky, sweet morsel before obliging its command, capturing her mouth with his. She tastes like the candy she’s been sampling too, and he likes it much better on her lips and tongue than from his own hand.

"Almost ready?" Ben had already changed at work, swapping his stifling suit and tie for jeans and an old T-shirt.

"Just let me lock up," Rey replies, flipping the _ 'open' _ sign on the front door to _ 'closed.' _She, too, is dressed to leave the city behind for the great outdoors.

It's the fourth of July weekend and the remainder of unsold red, white, and blue candy necklaces and novelty firecracker popping candy are going to wait patiently for clearance markdown on Monday because Rey and Ben are going to his family's cabin in the woods. Since she owns the shop, Rey is able to close for the long weekend.

Ben has never cared for the crowds at the street fairs and parades the holiday usually brings, but he's excited for the excuse to get away with Rey.

He has absolutely no complaints about any of the time he has spent with Rey. But early morning meetings for him and inventory counting and shipments for her have prevented any overnights thus far.

** _"Me & You"_ **

After helping Rey clean up while she drops the day's cash in the safe, the two head out in Rey's truck—the beat up old Chevy is much better suited for the rough gravel roads than Ben's sleek little Audi.

Even so, a few miles out from the cabin, they have to park in a dirt lot and leave the car behind to hike the rest of the way. Heavy rains during the spring washed out the road and it hasn't been repaired yet. But Ben's parents ensured him they stocked it well when they went up last month, and so Ben and Rey only had to pack in their personal essentials.

“You know,” Rey says, as they shoulder their backpacks and begin to make their way through the woods before nightfall, “My father’s parents had a cabin somewhere around here growing up. He mentioned childhood vacations near this lake once.”

“What are the odds?” Ben muses. There _ are _ other cabins scattered through the woods around Lake Naboo, though most of the land is national forest, or campgrounds. It’s funny that Rey’s dad—who she’s mentioned only briefly, having met him only a couple times in her life—grew up in the area. “I bet my mother knew them. She knows everyone.”

Leia Organa had pursued her interest in politics since grade school, joining student councils, model UN, and heading up clubs and committees—socialization was a skill she’d practiced all her life.

“Probably knew him better than my own mother did,” Rey replies, and Ben pauses, not quite sure if he imagines the bitterness in her laugh or not.

It's the one subject Rey has been vague about. He knows only the barest of facts: that her parents had a fleeting relationship that ended before her mother knew she was pregnant and she only met her father years later. How much that weighs on her is something she still keeps close to the chest.

Rey notices Ben's apprehension and gives him a nudge. “I’m glad I get to be here with you,” she tells him, and Ben trusts that she means it.

Before he can reply, they both tilt their faces skyward, noticing the first raindrops spitting from the clouds gathering overhead.

_ Shit. _

The rain isn’t supposed to arrive until near midnight, when Ben intends to be tangled up in sheets and Rey’s arms and legs, unconcerned with the storm raging on around them. But it seems that Mother Nature wants to alter her schedule.

“We better pick up the pace,” he says out loud, giving Rey’s hand a tug. They’re a little over halfway. Hopefully they'll make it before the rain picks up.

"I've been caught in the rain before, Ben," Rey says with a shake of her head. "I won't melt." But she starts to move a little faster.

** _“Chill Out”_ **

Conversation is put on hold, as the combination of the incline and their hurried pace steals their breath. It isn’t long before the sprinkling droplets become a downpour and their clothes are plastered to their skin.

“How much further?” Rey asks, her sunny disposition from earlier having vanished with the actual sunlight.

Ben squints through the maelstrom and shrugs helplessly. He tries to calculate the distance they’ve covered so far but is more than a little worried he might have taken a wrong turn with the heavy rain clouding their visibility. On a good day, it should only be a two hour hike, and he feels like they’ve been out here at least that long. They're not far from the shoreline of the lake, but that doesn't mean much—it stretches for miles.

“Maybe we should wait it out?" He's staring at the outline of a boatshed against the backdrop of the grey sky. It's weathered and worn and swaying in the wind, and he has no clue whose property they’re standing on, but it's shelter.

Rey's eyes follow his gaze, and teeth chattering, she nods. They jog towards the little structure and thank their lucky stars that the door isn't padlocked as they slip inside, heaving a sigh of relief when they finally escape the wind and rain. The rain smacks and pounds sharply against the tin roof, but it’s still an improvement.

Once inside, they take stock of their situation. Neither of them thought to bring a poncho, or much of anything really, planning to spend most of their time _ in _ the cabin, rather than venturing out, and their lightweight backpacks—and the contents within—are as soaked as they are.

A flash of lightning illuminates the small room through cracks along the door and corners. A canoe and paddles against one wall takes up the bulk of the tight space, with a haphazard pile of tackle boxes, wire baskets, and fishing rods occupying another. Not even one towel or blanket of questionable cleanliness in sight.

“I have a few ideas for warming up,” Rey says, with a sly grin on her face. But her teeth are chattering and her eyes look tired and worn from the whole incident.

Not that the idea is without merit but…

“There has to be _ something _ salvageable in here,” Ben mutters, digging to the very bottom of his canvas bag, his priority—for the moment anyway—on getting Rey into something dry before she catches hypothermia. Or pneumonia. Or whatever comes first when you get too cold. It’s been a long time since the single year he spent in Boy Scouts—one of his mother’s many attempts to get him to broaden his social horizons.

They hasten to change into the driest clothes they can find—boxer briefs and a light sleep shirt rolled tightly at the bottom of his pack, for Ben, and an airy, cotton sundress for Rey, that had been protected from the rain by a pair of her jeans that took the brunt of the water’s assault.

While the quick-change and lack of light means he can’t take the time to appreciate more than a quick glimpse at Rey’s body, Ben doesn’t feel _ too _guilty that step two of the warming up includes dragging her onto his lap so that they can huddle close and share body heat.

** _“In The Mood”_ **

Sitting on the dusty, unfinished plywood floor of shack that was decrepit at best isn’t exactly sexy, but with Rey straddling him as they rub each other’s arms and backs to create warmth, it doesn’t take much to convince Ben’s body otherwise.

It takes Rey even less time to notice the situation _ arising _, given how his knees are pulled up behind her, trapping her tightly against him, and the fact that the light fabric of their attire does little to conceal anything. He tries, and fails, to bite back a groan when Rey shifts in his lap with a gleam in her eyes.

“Now really isn’t the time?” He doesn’t mean for it to be a question as he chokes out the words.

“_Someone _ seems to think it is,” she teases, emphasizing her point by rocking against his hardening cock again, firmer, more purposefully.

Ben lets his hands drag down Rey’s arms to her hips with every intention to still her movements. “We should wait until we get up to the cabin.” His words are contradicted by the way he uses his grip to tug Rey impossibly closer, thrusts his own hips upwards.

Rey gasps and drops her head to the crook of Ben’s neck, placing an openmouthed kiss to his pulse. “Why?” she asks, her voice breathy, tickling his skin. She continues her slow rocking and through the flimsy material of their new attire, he can feel her getting wet already. “We’re alone, we have time to kill, and we need to keep warm.”

“Because I have plans,” Ben says, even as his hands start to push up the hem of her sundress, stroking her thighs.

They’ve spent the last couple of weeks making out like horny teenagers without the time or opportunity to take things any further. Now that Ben finally has three uninterupted days to spend with Rey, he doesn’t intend to kick off the weekend with a hasty fuck in a—frankly disgusting—shed that seems as though it could topple at any minute.

Rey hums at his touch. “What plans?” she encourages, as she drags her fingers through his hair, nails scraping along his scalp.

Under her dress, one of Ben’s hands makes its way back up to her hip and his fingertips dance along bare skin.

_ Shit. _

She hadn’t found—or at least hadn’t bothered with—any dry panties when they’d changed. This isn’t helping his resolve.

“I’m going to strip you, hold you down and spread you open just for me,” he promises, his voice low. "I’m gonna make you come on my tongue three times before I fuck you.” As Ben paints the picture, Rey shivers for reasons entirely unrelated to the cold. “You’ll be begging.”

“I’m ready to beg you now,” she confesses. All traces of teasing gone, her voice is almost a whimper.

Forcing himself to pull his hands back, he pulls them up to cradle her face instead, stealing one more searing kiss before pulling back to stare into her eyes as best he can in the dimness. His voice almost breaks in desperation—desperate to take her, desperate to find the will to wait—as he implores, “I want it to be _ perfect._”

He can see the conflict in Rey’s eyes, the urge to argue that it could be perfect here—even in the short time they’ve known each other, he’s learned to read her well—before she nods, taking deep breaths to calm herself. Ben lets his legs slide to fall straight on the floor and Rey scoots just a few inches back on his thighs, though she doesn’t climb off of his lap.

“Anyway,” Ben says, as his breathing returns to normal; he shifts awkwardly on the plywood floor. “It should be somewhere where whoever ends up on their back isn’t going to get splinters in their ass.”

_ That _ draws a hearty laugh from Rey, though he wasn’t entirely joking.

** _“Get Real”_ **

“My mother knew my uncle smoked pot. Everyone knew he did. I barely ever saw the guy and I knew it. And I’m sure she smoked with him too. At the very least when she was younger.”

When Rey acquiesced to Ben's plea, she insisted he distract her, so he's relaying stories of summers spent in these very woods. It isn't working _ entirely_; she's still in his arms and they're still huddled close and she's still playing with his hair. He doesn't even know if she realizes it. Ben keeps trailing his own hands up and down her sides—a (_relatively_) safe place.

“But of course, giving it to _ me _ was a different thing,” Ben explains with a shrug. The summer that Leia discovered the pot Luke had planted near the cabin was a tense one. He leaves out the shouting match he’d overheard between his parents when his father had dared to react to his mother’s concern with a passive shrug.

“How old were you?” Rey’s fingers tickle the back of Ben’s neck as she absentmindedly plays with the hair at the base of his head. The thunder has eased up, but the rain, while not as torrential as before, is still steady.

“Sixteen.”

Rey laughs. “So it’s not like you hadn’t had the opportunity at school or something anyway, I’m sure.”

Ben scoffs. “My mom was almost angrier about _ where _ it was planted, I think. She was running for city council and worried that somehow it would get tied back to her for being on family property.” He shook his head, recalling listening as she tore his uncle a new one. “She was _ fucking pissed _at Luke; he didn’t come around for two or three years after that.”

Rey’s hand stills on Ben’s neck. “Who?”

“Huh? Oh, Luke. My uncle,” Ben clarifies, realizing he hadn’t referred to his uncle by name in his storytelling yet.

Rey tilts her head thoughtfully then gives it a shake. “Your uncle’s name is Luke. What are the odds?” she mumbles, repeating Ben’s own words from earlier.

Now it’s Ben’s turn to tip his head in confusion, unsure what to make of Rey’s comment. “What do you mean?”

“My biological father’s named Luke,” Rey explains. She shrugs and as she speaks, her nimble fingers resume twisting errant strands of Ben’s hair. “I know it’s not a _ strange _name, but it’s still quite the coincidence. The name, growing up in Chandrila, summers at Lake Naboo.”

Both of them freeze this time; now that the string of similarities hang in the air between them.

Ben’s mind is reeling as he digs through his memory for the few conversations where Rey had spoken of her father. He wasn’t really a part of her life and Ben can’t recall her mentioning his name. Her last name is Johnson—about as common a name as one could find in any phonebook, but then, she’d been raised by her mother—she doesn't share her father's name.

In the dim room Ben can _ just _ glimpse Rey’s face; her own eyes are wide as saucers as she works over the same information in her own mind. She swallows audibly.

And Ben’s own mother dropped her maiden name before she even got married, opting to use an older family name—Organa—professionally, while Ben bears his father’s name. So the highly unusual name his uncle still carries doesn’t get used very often, and certainly hasn’t been uttered ever in the few conversations where he’s mentioned his family to Rey.

“Rey,” Ben says carefully, slowly, “what _ is _your father's name? His full name?”

“Luke Skywalker.” Rey’s voice shakes just a little.

_ Shit. _

The world tilts under Ben’s body. Down is up. He’s got his girlfriend—his _ cousin _—on his lap. His cousin who he just made out with, and not for the first time. Unhelpfully, his dick is still half-hard, not even dissuaded by this new realization.

“That’s my uncle’s name,” Ben finally breathes into the still, claustrophobic, air.

“Shit,” Rey says, voicing Ben’s own thoughts.

“Yeah.”

** _"Only You"_ **

The weight of the situation bears down on Ben, and the already tiny shack suddenly feels a whole lot smaller.

“I guess I should...move,” Rey offers quietly, though she remains still.

“Probably,” Ben replies, his hands still on her waist. She _ should _ move. But it’s the last thing he wants. In spite of everything, he still wants to make good on the promises he laid out only a handful of minutes ago but is no longer supposed to act on. Even as guilt inches over him, his attraction remains, unable to be switched off like a lightswitch.

They sit in silence for a beat before Rey extricates herself from Ben’s arms and slides off his lap to sit on the floor next to him. Already he is missing the weight and warmth of her, despite knowing he’s not _ allowed _to want her anymore. Her sigh as she relaxes against the wall beside him sounds as desolate as he feels. There isn’t more than six inches between the two of them in the compact space. Outside, the rain continues to fall, effectively trapping them together.

“Are you hungry?” Rey finally breaks the silence as she digs in her backpack. “I brought trail mix.”

Rey holds out a ziplock baggie, the plastic having prevented the contents inside from getting soggy. Ben reaches for a handful and laughs in spite of himself; it’s all candy.

“Rey, this isn’t trail mix,” he says with a smile. “This is a sugar crash waiting to happen.”

“There are raisins in there,” Rey replies, shrugging.

“_Raisinettes_,” Ben corrects.

“And nuts,” Rey adds indignantly. “That’s protein.”

“Chocolate covered nuts,” Ben teases, glad for an excuse to smile. “Admit it. It’s all candy.”

“Well the candy hearts were for you,” Rey says softly. “Your favorite.”

And just like that, Ben’s mood is somber once again.

“Candy hearts were never my favorite,” he admits. “I just blurted out some excuse for coming to the store so often. It’s because I wanted a reason to see you.”

“Oh.”

They sit and listen to the rain again for a moment.

"All my life, growing up, I wanted a normal family," Rey speaks up, her voice bitter. "To stay in one house rather than moving around. To have both of my parents and brothers and sisters. Grandparents. _ Cousins._" She spits the last word out with a hollow laugh. "Now that I found what I really want, I can't have it."

Against his better judgement, Ben reaches over, gives Rey's hand what he hopes is a comforting squeeze.

"I know what you mean. I always felt like a black sheep, the odd one out. I used to wish there was someone in my family who really understood me." In the dark, Ben smiles bitterly at the cruel irony. "I didn't mean like this."

Rey squeezes Ben's hand back and sniffles. They sit like that for a second, for a lifetime, before Rey draws in a shuddering breath and speaks again.

"What if-” Her voice adopts a steely edge. “What if I decide I don't care?"

"What?"

"My parents didn't give me the chance for a regular family, for knowing you, when I was little. Why should I let that take you away from me now?" She speaks as though Luke and her mother are right there in the shed, holding them apart, but Ben understands her instinct to blame them.

He can’t suppress the stirring of hope her fiery words shouldn't—but definitely do—inspire in him.

"People will find out eventually. They'll talk," he hedges, even as he begins to trace circles into her palm with his thumb, edges closer to her on the floor.

"But it's not _ illegal," _she says, "Not here."

"In some places, it's completely acceptable," Ben adds on.

"We didn't even grow up together!" Rey exclaims, her voice rising. "They can't keep you from me _ now_. It’s not fair."

** _“Let’s Get Busy”_ **

Ben isn't sure who moves first, but all at once he and Rey collide with a kiss as enthusiastic and passionate as any they've shared so far, rough and frantic as they tug each other close, as if trying to _ consume _ each other.

Rey is pressed up against his side, heat radiating from her body in the cool air, their hands scrambling and clawing at each other. Ben bites at her collarbone, marking her—his cousin—as his.

_ His cousin. _

He should feel guilty about making her gasp like that. Instead, all he feels is pride. It’s not long before he’s fully hard again and desperate for her nearness. She climbs back onto his lap, and he sighs in relief at the contact; he has no intention of ever pushing her away again.

The sound of the rain is drowned away by their shared sighs and moans and panting breaths as they rut against each other in the dark. It’s not the drawn out lovemaking he’d envisioned—still _ does _ envision—taking place later tonight in the warmth of the cabin. But the juxtaposition of Rey’s wet heat and the coarse drag of the jersey knit of his underwear against his shaft is enough to make him almost delirious.

“Ben,” Rey whimpers, her breath hot against his ear, her nimble fingers pushing up under his tee shirt, nails scraping against his chest.

Ben growls as he hunches his shoulders, bends his head awkwardly to her chest, tongues and bites at her hardening nipples through the thin, but still all-too-frustrating, fabric of her sundress, making her cry out. Neither of them are fully dressed, but it’s still far too much in his opinion.

Ben tugs one strap off her shoulder, trapping Rey’s arm against her body, finally exposing one perfect tit to his hungry eyes—and mouth. He appreciates the gleam of her pale skin, the contrast of the dusky rose bud, in the tiny strip of moonlight that makes its way through the cracks in the wall for just a moment before descending on the stiff peak with teeth and tongue, desperate to taste her flesh. Ben grips Rey’s hip with one hand, yanking her tight against him, while the other reaches up to pluck and twist at her other, covered nipple, not wanting it left out of his attentions.

Rey jolts in his arms before increasing her pace, rocking her cunt against him, increasingly erratic and desperate. Her confined hand clutches at his taut stomach, seeking purchase, while she raises her free hand to tangle in his hair, damp and messy from both rain and sweat. Her fingers twist and pull, just the right side of painful and Ben moans, the sound muffled against the soft mound of her breast.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, releasing her nipple with a wet_ pop, _ his words eliciting goosebumps along her sensitive skin. _ The connection, the feeling of completeness he always wanted to find within his family—how could he have ever known this is how he would find that sense of belonging? _ “You’re made for me. I’m never letting you go.”

With a stuttering gasp, Rey stiffens and shudders in his arms; she comes not with a scream, but a sharp and tiny whimper, a beautiful and desperate sound he’ll never forget. A sound he wants to hear a million more times.

Instinctively, he thrusts upward, seeking that delicious friction again but Rey shifts awkwardly. “Sorry,” she mutters, almost shyly. “Um…sensitive. Just let me-”

“Shit. Sorry,” Ben cuts her off, using the hand at her hip to push her back a little, create some tiny semblance of distance between their bodies. “We’ll stop.” His dick, not quite as noble, twitches in protest.

“_No,_” Rey says, her voice suddenly fierce and determined. “We _ won’t _ . Just let me _ adjust_,” she says, finishing the statement he’d earlier cut off. One hand on his shoulder, one at his waist, she lifts her hips a moment and wriggles against his cock once more. Having found a better angle, she begins to roll against him in earnest, wiping any thought of attempts at selfless protest from Ben’s mind.

“Because you’re mine, too,” Rey whispers in his ear, her breath hot. Her hand on his stomach inches south, under the waistband of his boxer briefs, grazes at his aching head, and he makes a sound that could only be described as a whine, but he doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed. “And I’m going to make you come for me,” she continues, a mirror of his earlier promise to her. “You’re gonna make a mess for me. _ Just _ for me.”

And Ben doesn’t know if it’s the pride and possession in Rey’s voice, or her hot little fingers teasing him or the combination of both that pushes him over the edge but all at once he grunts and he’s coming, spilling against his underwear, against her hand.

She’s right. He’s desperate and he’s a mess. For her; just for her.

Absently Ben notes that their labored breaths, slowly returning to normal, is all that he hears; the rain has passed.

In a patch of moonlight, he catches the gleam in Rey’s eyes as she shrugs her dress strap back onto her shoulder and lifts her hand to her mouth; licks his spend from her fingers, and he groans.

“It’s not candy hearts but…” Rey says with a grin, and Ben chuckles, pulls her close for a sloppy and satiated kiss. Something primal in him delights at the taste of himself on her sweet mouth and that’s an upgrade over cheap sugar in his opinion.

** _“Be Mine”_ **

"Ready to get out of here and up to the cabin?" Ben’s not ready for the night to end, but he'd much prefer to continue it on actual bed. Or sofa… or countertop… Just inside a building that's not on the verge of collapse, anyway.

Rey is apparently on the same page. "Oh, yeah,” she says with a smirk. “We're not done yet."

She gives his earlobe a little nip before crawling off of him and Ben's spent cock stirs feebly already. He's become insatiable, apparently. He winces as he tugs damp jeans up over his sticky underwear, but hopefully they'll be coming back off soon enough.

"Maybe we'll start with a shower when we get there," Ben says with a wry grin while they don their wet shoes and stand up.

"Mmm," Rey hums, straightening her dress before reaching out for Ben, slipping a finger through one belt loop. "My dirty boy needs cleaned up?" she asks playfully.

Ben just growls and tugs Rey out the door, scooping up their backpacks as they go.

As soon he steps out though, he freezes, reaching back and catching Rey before she falls as she stumbles into him.

"What's wrong?"

Outside, the clouds are gone and the forest and lake are awash in the glow of a full moon, and Ben fails to choke back a guffaw as he stares in front of him.

"_ What? _" Rey demands, more emphatic this time.

Ben lifts a hand and points towards the pine log house with the familiar green roof not a hundred yards away from them. "There's the cabin," he chokes out, tears in his eyes.

Rey follows his gaze and bursts into laughter along with him. "Oh my god!"

All this time they could have been warm and dry! But…

Ben looks over his shoulder at the neighbor's boat shack. Would they have made the discovery, had the conversation they needed to have, thrown caution to the wind and chosen each other in spite of it all if they hadn't been trapped there together?

Ben doesn't regret a single, messy moment of it.

Well, maybe the splinters.

"Let's go," he finally says, grabbing her hand. "I have a few promises to make good on."

Rey bites her lip and they take off in a mad dash towards the cabin, towards the future, towards the family they'd always craved and finally found in each other.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to @deadlikemoi for betaing! This would have been a mess without your help!
> 
> And yes those scene break taglines are real candy heart sayings from over the years. The title, Maybe Tonight, might not be but I couldn't resist a little nod to George Michael and Maeby.
> 
> Pasting from Docs messed a bit with my formatting - I think I fixed it all, but I'm sorry for any lingering mistakes!


End file.
